Yes, I wrote a Drapple Don't judge me
by missinsertname
Summary: Hermione observes the efforts of Miss Pansy Parkinson and a poorly administered love potion.


**I don't think it is as bad as it sounds, but it is still pretty bad. A friend told me to write it, I swear. Review if you get to the end. I will want to know if someone did.**

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Hermione bit down on her lip to stop herself from laughing out loud, and shuffled further away from the door of her cubicle hiding place to avoid shadows of her being seen; it wasn't illicit for her to be in the first floor girl's toilets at this time, nor was she particularly bothered by being caught, but being discovered would mean the end of listening to a very entertaining discussion by her Slytherin counterparts.

"Just three drops!" came the voice that somehow managed to be simultaneously shrill and drawling, "Three drops and he will be falling over himself to be more romantic!"

The glee in pansy Parkinson's face was easily imaginable, but this unpleasant thought would not distract Hermione from her mirth.

"It says on the 'Elixir to Induce Affection' that it has to be 'bestowed by a kiss'", said her one of her nasally friends with barely concealed awe at her leader. There was a pause in which Hermione assumed Pansy read the warnings on the pink bottle.

"I don't think it hardly matters. Draco is beside himself with me anyway, I only want a little more hearts and flowers. No, I shall put in his food: far easier." There was smugness in her voice that her words did not warrant, but Hermione simply shook her head, grinning guiltlessly.

Whilst staying at Ron's house one summer, she had encountered some of the disguised love potions that were intended for mail order by Fred and George, and remembered the instructions given were particularly specific. During her perusal she had been discovered by them both and they had proceeded to describe some of their more amusing testing stories. One of their weakest, most casually used love potions, 'Elixir to Induce Affection', was that for a reason: people never administered it properly.

It had a specific type of charm that affected immediately the person enchanting and the intended target. It had to be used by touching, skin to skin, (they said kiss to make it sound more romantic, hence more marketable), not via the spiking of food or drink.

That would not affect the relationship between the target and the enchanter; only the food and the enchanter. Fred amusedly recounted the three days he had consumed nothing but Firewhiskey instead of taking Angelina to Hogsmeade; George had to lock him in their dormitory and roll him under the bed with a silencing charm when anyone came to look for him because otherwise he wouldn't stop singing about it.

Hermione wasn't a vengeful person, or particularly spiteful, but she did not fight the pleasurable satisfaction and amusement that the same was going to happen to Draco Malfoy.

The girls left the bathroom just in time for her to release the rather loud giggle that had threatened her since the beginning. As she walked out of the door toward the Great Hall, practically chewing on her lip now to prevent a grin, she considered briefly whether to tell Ron and Harry yet; she couldn't however help her thoughts being more satisfactorily employed considering Pansy's potential food choices.

It had been a day since Hermione had overheard her conversation, and she had been keeping a close eye on Pansy whenever she was near Malfoy's food, but she appeared to have not yet struck, and there was no notable difference in his behaviour; he had rolled his eyes and wrinkled his nose as Hermione had passed him in the corridor that morning, just like normal.

She had kept it from her friends for now; somehow, a part of her wanted to enjoy this on her own for a while; after everything, she felt she deserved it, and she wasn't even sure if she would see it happen.

She came upon a forewarning quite by accident though, in the greenhouses, in the form of one of the nasally girls, Veronica, gossiping to her rather vacant looking friend who looked quite disconcertingly similar to the adult mandrake asleep in the corner next to her.

"He is always eating those apples, she is going to put it in one of them; I heard it from Cormac that he has a one of those mini trees on his bedside table."

"Aren't they like ridiculously expensive? There are only a few hundred left aren't there, 'cos people love them so much?"

"Best apples in the world. He is like, ridiculously rich though, so why not? No wonder Pan and him are together, have you seen her parent's house? Wouldn't surprise me if she had one."

Veronica nodded sanctimoniously at her mandrake friend's intrigue, and their conversation petered off into the territories of comparison of money among their circle, interspersed with catty remarks which Hermione supposed were intended to be witty.

She looked over the table her oblivious best friends trying to decipher their instructions from their dirt covered textbook and decided she couldn't keep this to herself much longer.

"What's he going to do, make a hole in it?!"

The loud exclamation from Ron among the throng of laughter drew looks of disconcertion from across the room, but only served to increase the volume of the rapturous reception Hermione's account of Draco's impending fate.

She had intended just to tell Ron and Harry, but the Gryffindor Common Room wasn't exactly the most private of places, and so naturally about twenty other people heard. Suffice to say Malfoy wasn't popular among them.

"I just hope to Merlin he takes that first bite in public," sighed Fred gleefully, after the majority of uproar had died down to a few titters.

"We need to assess his reaction though; it could go one of two ways." With that the twins almost doubled over again, and all attention was switched from Hermione to them, which she was secretly quite grateful for.

"What exactly will happen to him then?" said Neville, leaning in, a rare look of satisfaction in another's embarrassment that Hermione related to.

The twins looked at each other again.

"Well either he has the same reaction I had that Hermione just talked about, so the changes we made haven't affected the side effects since then, so he'll addicted to apples for a bit."

"Or?"

Two sly smiles.

"Or..."

A particularly dull Transfiguration lesson had driven apples temporarily from their minds, but an arrogant call down the corridor as they headed into the courtyard quickly gave cause to stifled grins.

"Oi! Potter!"

"He doesn't look happy," Ron murmured amusedly as the three of them turned and waited for him to strut toward them.

"Maybe his beloved has left him for a bigger pumpkin," Hermione said within earshot of the concerned and to general impressed looks.

"What tripe are you spouting today Granger?" he spat, even more vehemently than usual.

Regardless of their joke, Ron still took an almost infinitesimal step forward and in front of her at his words as she didn't deign to respond.

"What do you want Malfoy?" Harry said tiredly but with a smirk that wasn't usually present in their frequent exchanges.

"I want to know why your lot have been looking at me funny all day. Spreading some sort of ridiculous rumour are we? We aren't first-years Potter, you need to grow up. You're no fun anymore."

While he was speaking he had walked around the three of them like they were his hostages, bound by the fear of his unpleasant group of cronies that had gathered around the tree under which they were standing. In actual fact, they were fighting the urge to laugh so much they were unsure if someone had misused the Cheerful Charm on them, as during his predatory circle, Draco had produced an apple from his bag.

Hermione noticed Pansy's eyes widen at the front of the small crowd of green clad teenagers and her pug like face contort into anticipation, and nudged the Ron and Harry either side of her, inkling her head so they would notice.

He was in front of them when he took the first bite, in the middle of a harping monologue that no longer had any listeners.

They watched his face slacken slightly as his chewing slowed, and he stumbled over his words. Seemingly forgetting them completely, he looked down at the apple, his Apple and his eyes widened.

Slowly Draco stopped chewing altogether, and a look of complete horror and disgust overcame him. He spat the apple from his mouth, and with his speech unimpaired he began to profusely apologise to his Apple. Forgetting everyone else, including a confused Pansy, he knelt on the floor, oblivious to the increasing laughter of those in front and around him, and held his Apple like it was made of gold and began to cry, stroking the bitten side with his hands and cheek, muttering to it.

Everyone, including many of his own friends, was laughing unabashedly at him, and had formed kind of a circle themselves around the tree and the sobbing Draco, Hermione having the sense of mind to drag her friends from the centre.

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**I don't know why anyone would read to the end, but thanks! Don't take this as a reflective of all my writing. Please. I do good stories!**


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